


Will You Be There, Standing at the End of the War

by Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche)



Series: FFXV Time Travel and Dimension Travel [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Absent Characters, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anger, Consequences, Conversations, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hatred, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV (2016), Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, Light Angst, Loss of Trust, Loyalty, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Slash, Regis is a Terrified Dad, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Trust Issues, Worldbuilding, actually let's just call it loyalty porn, glauca warrants all the warnings all on his lonesome, hard hitting conversations, neither drautos nor regis are happy, regis is close to infuriated actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 09:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortescryche/pseuds/Adel%20Mortescryche
Summary: When they're attacked by the Imperial Forces at Tenebrae, Regis wasn't prepared to be rescued alongside Noctis, Lunafreya and Ravus by the Commanding General of the enemy forces. Not after the man already cut Sylva down before them.He was even less prepared for the face lying in wait behind the mask.He dropped down to one knee, and rather pointedly cupped the left side of Drautos’ head, delicate, making no move to actually hide the fury raging through him.“Talk, Titus.” Regis whispered. “Before I take this airship down from the sky.”





	Will You Be There, Standing at the End of the War

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be posted on the 31st with some other projects I'm working on, but Vol had an RL scare, and this is intended to soften the blow. Hugs to you, dear. Sucks that I'm so far away from you.
> 
> Also, this is dedicated to the Crew, as usual. You terrible enablers, I swear I'm in FFXV WIP Hell thanks to all of you.
> 
> Happy Hols, all! No matter what you celebrate, I hope you've all been having a great time. And if not, well, there's always the gift of fic to cheer you up. [grins wryly]

Noctis was fast asleep, as was Lunafreya. Finally. Ravus wasn’t asleep, still watching over his sister, and Noctis as well, with all the watchfulness of a nesting thunderoc. He did take a moment to glance up at the doorway, a conflicted emotion darting across his face before it was wiped clear by worry, and he turned back to his watch.

Regis breathed in deeply, and wondered whether he should worry about the boy. Ravus could very well prove to be a danger to Lucis, and Noctis, if he chose to seek revenge for the death of his parents. But he would have to think about that later, since he had more trying issues to deal with first.

Drautos was still seated in the cargo loading bay of the airship, looking terribly small amidst the hulking mechas and boxes. Regis had gotten the distinct feeling that they had been stolen away to Drautos’ personal ship, but there was nothing in the ship that showed off a personality of any kind.

...He was still garbed in the heavy armor of a Niflheim Military Commander, purple and magenta highlighting just how far up on the totem pole the man Regis had once thought of as one of his closest friends aside from Clarus, Cid and Weskham actually was in Niflheim. 

General Glauca... _General_ _ Glauca  _ was the same person as the man who had been the first to lift Noctis from Regis’ arms, gently laying him in the cradle by Aulea’s bed, while Clarus and Cor weeped over her still body.

Regis had no need to announce himself. Drautos looked up as soon as he drew close, eyes sharp in his head, and face blank. He made no move to rise to his feet, simply sitting leaning against the wall, and staring up at him.

“Why.” Regis asked, direct. Toneless. He had no reason to explain himself, after all.

_ Why.  _ Why he had chosen to betray Regis, and if he had been a spy and traitor right from the start… why in the name of the Six had he decided to rescue Regis, Noctis and the Nox Fleuret siblings? Right after striking down Sylva, no less.

Drautos pursed his lips, just barely, looking like he was controlling the urge to spit out the first thing that came to mind. Regis stared down at him, eyes hard, willing the other man to give him an answer that was actually worth having. He would be... more than a little incensed if Drautos didn’t have anything worthwhile to say for himself.

Regis didn’t care much for his own continued good health. Frankly, while Sylva’s death dismayed him, it didn’t truly raise his anger from it’s ashen grave either. No, what had truly set off Regis’ fuse had been the fact that Drautos,  _ Glauca,  _ had specifically been aiming to kill Noctis and the Nox Fleuret siblings. Taking out the True King and the Oracle Bloodline in one fell sweep of his blade.

And while Regis had spent his youth and a good part of his adulthood laughing off the magical lore of his ancestors, he did  _ not  _ appreciate anyone coming at his son with the intent to kill. Certainly not the man who had been named godfather right alongside Cor - among the highest ranking of his commanders, even if Cor wasn’t quite an official commander.  _ Yet,  _ if Clarus had any control over the situation.

“...you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Majesty,” Drautos said, eventually, voice gruff.

Regis felt his eyes  _ flare  _ with magic. Drautos certainly did, if the way he stiffened was any indication.

He dropped down to one knee, and rather pointedly cupped the left side of Drautos’ head, delicate, making no move to actually hide the fury raging through him.

“ _ Talk,  _ Titus.” Regis whispered. “Before I take this airship down from the sky.”

Drautos stared right back up at him, expression tight. Familiar, but not in a way Regis had expected to see on this pretender’s face. 

Regis knew his commander  _ well.  _ And for all that Drautos showed nothing obvious, Regis could tell the man was delighted beyond belief. Also angry, and he couldn’t believe that that thread of sullen anger had never seemed suspicious before, but both of them in combination just made Regis’ lips pull up and away from his teeth in a wordless snarl before he managed to smooth the line of his mouth again..

“Majesty…” Drautos whispered back, and Regis’ grip on his hair tightened to a point that had to be painful. The other man let no indication of it show on his face.

“Would you accept that I realized the error of my ways?” 

Regis snorted, his face tilting to the side just a bit. The cut of the smile that spread across his lips was utterly unamused, and Drautos nodded agreeably in response, shifting up onto his knees so he could kneel properly before him. Not regretful or penitent, not in the least, but the shift in position made Regis straighten up himself, moving with Drautos so he could still grip his hair.

Drautos towered over him, even on his knees, but Regis didn’t need to rise to his feet to be dangerous. For all that Drautos’ armor was formidable, and quick, from the range he was at, he could withdraw a dagger from the armiger and have it pierce straight through Drautos’ skull before he even began to react. And they both knew it.

“I killed you.” Drautos reported, arms loose at his sides. “Because I thought it would be for the best. The war would end, and we would finally be at peace.”

Regis snorted.

“That couldn’t have been it. I am very alive, for one. And for another, I can’t see Aldercapt being satisfied with just having my head. No, he wouldn’t stop until all of Insomnia fell to his magitek troops.”

Drautos watched him steadily, eyes cold.

“The war would end.” He repeated frankly, and Regis felt bile rise in his throat before he swallowed to steady himself.

“And Noctis?” Regis found himself asking. 

Drautos glanced away, finally looking chagrined.

“He wasn’t in Insomnia.” Drautos responded. “You sent him with his retainers to retrieve the Royal Arms. To meet with Lunafreya Nox Fleuret in Altissia.”

Regis breathed in slowly. Because he couldn’t even imagine his son being old enough to set out to recover the Royal Arms. Not when his boy was barely nine.

“If this is true,” Regis bit out, voice harsh, “What, exactly, are you doing  _ here?” _

“I woke up here after Nyx Ulric killed me.” Drautos said steadily, his eyes cold. “We were right when we thought the Galahdian refugees would be a good addition to the military.”

It took Regis a long moment to place the man Drautos spoke of, much to his chagrin. Even while he made it a point to remember the names of every one of his glaives and crownsguards as a matter of pride, there were enough soldiers to Lucis’ name that it was harder to remember every one of the lower ranked officers. The glaives were a new enough force that every one of their members were still in the process of building a reputation for themselves, but Ulric… Ah.

“We personally evacuated their village.” Regis said, blank.

Drautos lowered his head in the barest of nods, watching Regis patiently. 

If Regis were to believe Drautos’ fantastic tale of  _ time travel,  _ of all things, it would mean that Ulric had managed to take down the crowning jewel of the Imperial Army. Of that much, Regis was sure - commanders of Drautos’ caliber were not easily found. His death would have given Noctis and the survivors of the fall of Insomnia a lot more leeway in survival.

He breathed in slowly, and decided to keep a watch on Ulric. If the story held true, the young glaive would show clear signs of his prowess in the days to come.

“This still doesn’t answer my question, Drautos. If you truly did wake in the past… what reason did you have to save me and mine, as against using the knowledge to ensure Niflheim’s victory?”

Drautos’ eyes narrowed, and he glanced away for a split second before looking back at Regis, as cold and resolute as before. It made Regis wonder, if the few glimpses of warmth he’d seen in the other man had always been no more than an act.

“I pursued one option, and saw the near end of the world.” Drautos murmured, voice low. “I have my reasons to mistrust you, and your tendency to promise aid even when you have no power to do so, Majesty. But Aldercapt was a madman, more interested in making promises with daemons for power rather than trusting in his own forces and the strength of hard labor.

“Magic is a pretty lie. And people who make their bed with daemons deserve to lie in it. I’ve been given another chance; I chose to walk a different path, just to see if the next King of Lucis will be a worthier one than the last.”

Regis breathed in sharply, not looking away from Drautos’ gaze. The other man’s eyes glittered with a heady mix of hatred and hunger, barely veiled in the iron-clad discipline that Regis had always known to expect from him.

“So. You were given another chance, and decided to be a behemoth that would turn on its master, should he overstep his bounds, rather than the serpentess in the shadows, waiting for an opportune moment.” Regis’ voice was soft when he spoke, barely a whisper of breath passing from between his lips. 

Drautos smiled slowly, and the expression was almost violently amused.

“That’s one way of looking at it, I guess. Six, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a really sore loser. And I know how to pick a winning side when I need to.”

Regis… could believe that. Drautos had always been one of the sorest losers Regis knew, to the point that Clarus and Cid had flat out refused to play poker or king’s knight with him. At least back when Cid actually stayed in touch with the rest of them. Drautos had been notorious, in his youth, and even as he grew older. The one man people refused to spar against if they could get away with avoidance; at least when they could go neck and neck with him. Not if it meant they would have to deal with Drautos pursuing them for more spars in the aftermath of a win. Not if they weren’t fully willing to deal with his passive aggressiveness and black humor. Regis and Clarus had personally found it hilarious, more than irritating, but Weskham and Cor had refused any and all spars, just so they could avoid the resulting drama.

This, however... This was more complicated than simply picking the winning side. Regis could feel it down to his bones. The cut of Drautos’ smile made Regis’ fingers tighten on his face, enough so that they dug into his skin and would leave bruises behind once Regis decided to let go.

“Did you regret it?” Regis found himself asking, curious. “Cutting me down? Or did you enjoy it.”

Drautos chuckled roughly, his face turning into Regis’ vice-like grip.

“Nothing could have made me happier.” He said, smile broadening. “There’s a special kind of joy in slaughtering the man who decided my hometown was a justifiable lost cause, before shortening the diameter of the Wall.”

Regis felt sick to his gut. He’d known… he’d always known that the shortening of the Wall over the years as he lost his vitality and magical strength meant that there were regions that suddenly lost protection after enjoying years of protection. It was why he’d ordered the creation and training of Kingsglaive: to give the people around and beyond the Wall some measure of protection. That Drautos had been one of the people who’d suffered losses because of his decisions…

Even so. It wasn’t a reason. Only an excuse. That much he could read in the cant of Drautos’ smile, and the glint in his eyes. The other man had made peace with his decisions a long time ago. One couldn’t live a double life unless they were well and truly convinced of their cause.

“My death at your hands was enough reason to go to war but, what did you call it, the ‘near-end of the world’ wasn’t?”

Drautos scoffed.

“Of course not. Killing you was a pleasure. One that I fully intended to enjoy for the rest of my life. Aldercapt’s original goal was Conquest and Empire. If I’d known he planned on unleashing his madness and daemons upon all of Eos as a whole…”

“You would have done the same thing.” Regis cut in, mild. “Because you would have been convinced that you were doing what you wanted to do, and it would have been enough.”

Drautos blinked at him slowly, and finally laughed, a low rumble that started deep in his chest, and ended loud enough to echo in the cargo hold. Regis might have worried that it would wake the children, but he knew they were in good hands with Ravus at their side.

“Yes.  _ Yes.  _ I always did like that about you; you see right to the quick of the matter. You always have.” Drautos mused. “Ruthless, when you have to be. For all that you choose to hide it beneath  _ mercy  _ like a sheepskin. It didn’t mean the best for me personally, but I  _ did  _ look forward to seeing how you would react when you finally found out about Glauca.”

Regis heaved in a breath, demanding patience from Bahamut and the Ancestral Lucii as a whole, before letting go and pushing himself to his feet. Drautos made no move to follow him, instead staying on his knees, hands politely held at his back.

“You won’t do this again.” Regis said firmly, and Drautos snorted at him.

“And there’s that streak of mercy. Majesty, you really-”

He broke off when Regis’ fingers curled around his chin, tilting his face up so they could meet gazes directly. Drautos’ eyes  _ burned,  _ rage and discontent and harsh amusement all at once, but it didn’t stop Regis from tsking softly.

“You won’t do this again, Drautos,” he repeated quietly. “Or I will  _ end  _ you. Am I clear?”

Drautos stared up at him. Regis simply tightened his fingers, waiting patiently.

“So much faith in an old hound?” Drautos jeered, but his expression was serious.  _ Even after it confessed to biting you in the back? _

“Less faith, and more trust in my hound’s discipline.” Regis’ voice was low, but sharp. “I’d rather the behemoth stalking my footsteps to a serpentess in the dark any day, Drautos. Keep your anger and hatred confined to me, and my decisions. Noctis won’t ever be hurt by this.”

“Neither Clarus, nor Cor,” Drautos mused, his smile a faint thing. It could have been mistaken for gentle, if it weren’t for the dark laughter lining the corners of his eyes. “You always did have that habit of taking everything onto your own shoulders. Sure they can bear the weight, Old King?”

Regis frowned. Something about Drautos’ words had the ring of a title, more so than Regis could understand without context. 

It didn’t stop him from lowering his head, accepting the crown of thorns that was everything Drautos, Glauca, had been responsible for in the years since he’d broken bread with the Imperials. He would bear it. A time traveler was a valuable resource, for all that this one was dangerous in ways that would have Weskham and Clarus cursing him out, and Cor and Cid fretting like the mother hens they were.

It was for the best that Regis wouldn’t be explaining things to them any time soon.

“Glauca died with the attack on Tenebrae.” Regis said, pressing up with his finger tips, and smiling coldly when Drautos didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet, his gaze not shifting from Regis’ in the slightest. “Titus Drautos rushed to rescue us when Sylva’s messenger rushed to warn you of Sylva’s impending demise. Messengers of the Gods cannot be questioned, certainly not when they shift focus from one Oracle to the next.” 

“Thus absolving me of suspicion,” Drautos sounded amused. “My, Majesty. One would think you were  _ used  _ to spinning stories to save war criminals.”

Regis hummed softly, shifting his hold so that he could cup the left side of Drautos’ face again.

“Don’t make me regret it, Drautos. I’m too interested in hearing about the future and my son’s exploits to put you to death just yet.”

_ Don’t give me a reason. _ He didn’t say.  _ Don’t make me kill one of my oldest friends. My son’s godfather. Don’t you  _ fucking  _ dare, Drautos _ .

Drautos snorted at him, and shrugged casually.

“Didn’t have much else to do in the Astralsphere other than drink fake booze with Ulric and watch over the Prince. So sure, I have a lot to share.”

Regis stared up at him, and Drautos stared back, unsmiling. Regis’ grip tightened one last time, and fell away. But not without brushing across the bruises he’d left behind.

“Check on our course. Chart a route to Accordo; we’ll travel by ship from Altissia. The Niflheimers should have a harder time tracking us over the open ocean.”

“Your Will be done, Majesty,” Drautos rumbled, and Regis’ hand fisted at his side, crackling with magic.

“It had  _ better.”  _ He replied, and Drautos offered him a crooked smile before lumbering away.

*

Ravus was waiting for him at the doorway, leading into where the children were sleeping. His eyes were wide; wide enough that he had to have eavesdropped on Regis and Drautos earlier on. Regis sighed, offering the teen a tired smile before brushing past him, collapsing onto a chair by Noctis’ bed.

“Was that… entirely wise, your Majesty?” Ravus asked softly, and Regis shrugged, not looking away from Noctis’ sleeping face.

“Undoubtedly not. But the decision has been made, Ravus, and I will have to stand by it now.”

“...he killed my mother.” Ravus whispered, and Regis found himself smiling grimly.

“All the better that he’s coming back with us, in that case. You’ll get a chance to train with people who might actually have a chance at killing him in return.”

Ravus didn’t say anything for a long moment, his form still by the door. When he did finally move, it was to shift onto Lunafreya’s bed, sitting gingerly on it’s edge.

“Mother always did say you Lucians were slightly touched in the head. I’m not amused to see her proven right. Not in this way.”

Regis laughed roughly, and didn’t offer up a reply. Not when the boy was right.

Whether his decision was a good or a bad one remained to be seen. Of one thing he was, however, certain. Down to the cursed blood that flowed through his veins, and the might of the Crystals magic that he always felt, pulsing at the edges of his senses.

Drautos was  _ his.  _ One of his men, whose loyalty should have been above all question.

Aldercapt had encroached on his property. He would live to rue the day he had ever dared to do so.

Regis would have Drautos hack his skull off of his neck, and salt and burn his bones, dedicating them to Ifrit’s endless wrath. And then see if there was anything to be salvaged of Niflheim. Regis had spent too long playing the defensive game, wary of how Ardyn would react to open war.

No longer. He was  _ done. _

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** I have no intentions to continue this, but who knows what'll end up happening. _Bitter Dregs_ was supposed to be a simple drabblefic and now I'm writing a prequel to it that's already crossed 10k. And if any of you have read it, you might have noticed that more chapters have been added to the final count. The Salty Noct Time Travel Fic also continues to be written. I just... got distracted with other FFXV projects. [shifty eyes] So many WIPs. So. Many. 
> 
> Vol, Sei, why do you do this to me gdi.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little venture down the What-If path. [grins] I recently rewatched Kingsglaive, and man, Nyx and Drautos were such fascinating characters. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are v welcome, friends! They make me happier and inspire me to write more. And post faster, honestly. 
> 
> \---
> 
> You can find me **@adelmortescryche** on Tumblr and at **AdelMortescryche** on Pillowfort. Come hmu anytime.


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